


A Mini Dress For Your Thoughts?

by sweetNsimple



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Bones is a tease, Bones wears pretty dresses, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Fantasy Sex, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, Married Couple, Married Spones, Romance, Sharing Fantasies, Spock has a thing for dresses, Vulcan Bond, Vulcan Mind Melds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 17:43:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16958595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetNsimple/pseuds/sweetNsimple
Summary: Leonard chuckled as he gamboled past, Spock following close behind.  “A real shame they don’t make these dresses shorter, ain’t it, Mr. Spock?”“Doctor, you would be indecently exposed if you so much as leaned forward at the hips thirty-eight point seven degrees.”“Oh, lookie there,” Leonard hooted as he stopped suddenly and bent over at the waist.  “Oops, false alarm.  Thought someone dropped a pretty trinket.”  The floor was spotless.  “Silly me, am I right, Mr. Spock?”...“There is a word for you, Leonard,” Spock groused.  “Unwelcome in polite conversation.  Most would even consider it an insult.”





	A Mini Dress For Your Thoughts?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Esperata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Make Or Break Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15796149) by [Esperata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata). 



The only downside to puberty, Leonard McCoy had found, was that he couldn’t quite model the spaghetti strap dresses the same way he used to.  He and his mother had lamented the loss, but had rejoiced once more in shopping for dresses that accentuated McCoy’s broad shoulders and straight waist. 

“It’s not so bad,” his mother had reassured him.  “Models used to kill for a figure like yours.”  He had also gotten his prom dress during that shopping spree and he had held onto that blue draped, one-shoulder cocktail dress until even his sewing skills couldn’t keep the poor thing from falling apart. 

As a teenager, he’d broken hearts in his mini denim dress with the broad straps and the buttons undone to just above his navel.  He’d been a right tease in his youth and it had been his momma to teach him how to give a ‘come hither’ glower with the right neutral smoky eye shadow, or to stop a lusty soul dead with the more commanding copper colors.  At his more sedate, he’d had a sensible sleeveless maxi shirt dress that buttoned up the front up until his thirties.  Still with that deep V he adored, even if he was as flat as a door. 

As a Starfleet officer and CMO of the _Enterprise_ , he didn’t have many opportunities for flaunting his chosen and true dresses, but he occasionally made due with the optional science blue mini dress instead of his pants and shirt combination that most of the men and a fair number of the ladies appreciated.

He liked the dress well enough, even though he felt he was a bit too old to pull it off as well as the younger folk.  Damn it all to Hell, though, if he didn’t get at least two dimwits in one shift who tried to look up his skirt.  What was this, the 21st Century where they couldn’t keep it in their damn pants?!  They should have outgrown being distracted by a bit of skin and long legs.

Though he did have some damn good legs and he knew it for a fact.

“Spock,” he began conversationally, “is there somethin’ wrong with what I’m wearin’?”

“You are within standard dress protocol, Dr. McCoy,” Spock answered amicably enough, walking as he was a few steps behind Leonard.

“Is that so?  See, you’ve been starin’ rather _intently_ at me.  Got my ears burnin’ and everythin’.  And you’re all the way back _there_ , when we both know that those long legs of yours usually have me trailin’ after you.” 

He’d gone for purple eyeshadow that shift, feeling like a gem when he woke up and remembered that his inventory was complete and he could lord it over the engineering department.  It accentuated the bright blue of his eyes and, he felt, gave a little “oomph” to the fleeting look he gifted the commander with. 

There was a moment of such tension and silence that it seemed the ship itself had taken a deep breath. 

“My apologies,” Spock offered as he stepped up to walk next to Leonard.  “I was considering the proposal put forth by Mister Sulu and Mister Scott to induce condensation nuclei in the atmosphere above B’aku of the planet we are currently orbiting.”

“That was a joke,” Mr. Spock,” Leonard drawled.  “They were having you on.  Remember what the emperor said when we tried to open up peace negotiations between them and Acostú?”

“Of course, Doctor.  I do have an eidetic memory.  Xer exact words were ‘I will discuss peace with the degenerates on the day it rains in the Capitol’.  Due to the geographical position of the Capitol and the intense temperatures of Northern B’aku, rain has not occurred in the Capitol in over four hundred years.  ‘Water’, as is classified on Trisé, must be imported from Southern B’aku, and is under strict regulation.  In case you have forgotten, water is the reason B’aku and Acostú are at war, as B’aku first colonized Acostú in order to assume power over their naturally occurring bodies of water, of which Acostú is known for.  It was only in the last fifty years that Acostú went to war to protect their way of life and depleting resources.  A third of the population of Acostú has perished and B’aku is suffering from its worst recession in recorded history, leading to widespread poverty and crime.”

“Thank you for that history lesson, Mr. Spock.  You always know how to say more than you’re asked to say.”

“I strive to be informative,” Spock replied.

“You strivin’ to get a glimpse of my undergarments while you’re at it?” McCoy asked, quirking an eyebrow at Spock over his shoulder.  The Vulcan had ‘mysteriously’ fallen behind.  “There y’are, talkin’ about war and poverty, and actin’ like I got my trottin’ harness on.”

“Your…?  I do not understand –”

“Actin’ like you think I dressed this way to get your notice,” Leonard explained, all but crooning.  “Now, Mr. Spock, we _both_ know you’ve seen me in a great deal less.  A great deal more too.”

Spock stepped forward, but it was only so he could also step to the side and maneuver Leonard against a wall.  The Vulcan leaned into his space, hands folded together behind his back as Spock was known to do in that scholarly way of his. An outsider might think that they were in the midst of a private discussion, but Leonard knew that the coyote was at the hen’s door.  Mere thousands of years and Surak’s teachings separated the Vulcan cornering him from the warlike and barbaric passions of his ancestors.  The predator in those dark eyes was like a glimpse at Vulcan in 2700 BC.  Good Lord, a pre-reform Spock may have already thrown Leonard over his shoulder and had his way with him.

It was a juicy thought.

Leonard draped himself over the wall, head falling to one raised shoulder as he smiled becomingly.  He felt like a tall drink of iced tea.  Sweet as cherry pie. 

“I must admit to being distracted by your current attire,” Spock admitted in a low voice.

“Well, _I_ must admit that that ain’t _my_ problem.  You said it yourself, I’m not breakin’ dress code.”

“Leonard, _please_ ,” the Vulcan almost – _almost_ – begged, and wasn’t that just delicious?

“You don’t have to be lookin’, darlin’,” he crooned.  “You can get yourself up to the bridge and focus on your work like the perfectionist y’are.  Leave me in peace to do my own work.”  He smiled like the devil.  He slid one leg between Spock’s in the guise of crossing his legs at the ankle.  “I’m not just some eye candy for you, Mr. Spock.”

“You are enjoying this,” Spock stated blankly.  It took a moment to catch the tension in his shoulders, the angle of his jaw, the thin line of his lips, and realize that Spock had, with obvious effort, exerted a great deal of control over his body to stop any reaction that may show excitement or encouragement.  “You are… ‘teasing’ me.”

“You’re my husband, aren’t you?” Leonard murmured.  “My _bonded_.  My mate.  I have the right to rile you up every now and again.”

“You are causing me undue stress,” Spock retorted.  “Your actions have impacted my overall ability to function optimally.”

“No exact number, darlin’?  Ain’t even gonna give me a percentage of how _hard_ I’m makin’ it for you to ‘function’?”

“My efficiency has decreased from 93.45% to 87.27% since first observing you in this dress at the beginning of Alpha shift.”

“93.45%?” Leonard repeated, now somewhat concerned.  “Darlin’, what d’ya got on your mind?”

Spock raised a telling eyebrow.

Leonard sighed.  “How could’ve I forgotten.  War and widespread poverty.  All very _illogical_ and causing your computer brain to overheat.  Tell me, is there a little voice in there sayin’ ‘does not compute’?”

“If I were given to auditory hallucinations or some other medical issue that would result in hearing voices, such a voice would have been saying ‘does not compute’ since our first meeting.”

Leonard couldn’t help but chuckle, proud of his husband’s sass.  “Why, Mr. Spock – imagine what such an ‘auditory hallucination’ might’ve said to you when we got bonded…”  He leaned forward, mere centimeters from touching.  “Remember?  At the ‘appointed place’ at the ‘appointed time’.”

“I am incapable of forgetting,” Spock rumbled, his carefully stone expression slipping.  “I was meant to marry T’Pring.”

“Instead, she wanted you and Jim to fight to the death.”  Leonard snorted and shook his head.  “In a pig’s eye.  I think my solution was best.”

He hadn’t planned on getting bonded that day.  Actually, he thought he’d be watching the man he reluctantly and angrily loved get married to another in the middle of an ungodly desert.  But then T’Pring had challenged the marriage and tried to pick Jim as her warrior.  When Leonard had begged for any other solution, it had slipped that Spock had no other choice if he wanted to survive his pon farr _as no one else was available_ to cure his blood fever.  Well, Leonard had given that a thought for a second or two while Jim had prepared himself to die and had come up with a better idea. 

Spock had forfeited the challenge and surrendered T’Pring to her lover, Jim had returned unharmed to the ship, and Leonard had to have gone through at least a kilogram of lubricant over the next three days.  Leonard had gleefully discovered Spock’s ‘high regard’ for him through their numerous subsequent mind melds and had been relieved to find that they could have a relationship based off love and respect rather than one of necessity.  Spock had likewise been ‘gratified’ to find that Leonard had agreed to mate with Spock out of desire instead of duty.

What a grand three years it had been, learning the hobgoblin from the inside out, strengthening their mental bond.  Learning how much Spock liked his dresses and makeup.  Learning how much Spock was _gratified_ by Leonard getting all dolled up. 

“D’ya need to get to the bridge?” he asked, taking a step away from teasing his husband.  The situation they were in with the planet below was a serious matter and Leonard _did_ want a peaceful resolution.  He and his medical team were not permitted to beam down until given permission by the emperor and the emperor hadn’t even wanted Jim to leave the grounds of the First Home.  The sooner this all panned out, the better for Leonard to get a gander at the citizens.  Rampant disease and starvation – it was medieval, was what it was! 

Distracted by his own concerns, it took him a moment to realize that Spock well and truly had him between a wall and a hard place.  The Vulcan’s sturdy frame and the wall he was pressed into left him so little room that each breath they took made them touch. 

“Negative,” Spock said.  “If you are agreeable, I would prefer you accompany me back to our quarters so that I may go over private matters with you.”

“Mr. Spock,” Leonard gasped in mock horror.  “Are you propositionin’ me?  ‘Cause of these ole rags?  I wasn’t even aimin’ to impress today.”  He hadn’t been – had even been getting ready to start a riot after an ensign tried to flirt with him in the mess hall – but that had all changed when he caught Spock keeping both eyes on his behind.  He had been preening like a peacock since meeting up with his husband and he was as pleased as a cat with cream now that Spock was all but broadcasting how desirable he found Leonard.

Spock had, for all of his strict self-control and self-imposed emotional limitations, never left Leonard in doubt of how he felt for the doctor.  It was nice, nonetheless, to goad his Vulcan lover into such extreme reactions. 

“Nonetheless, you may consider me… ‘impressed’,” Spock admitted.  “You have been torturing me for the past fifteen minutes and thirty-two seconds.  You have taken over all of my senses and left me with little else.”

“ _All_ your senses, darlin’?  Even smell?  You tellin’ me I smell funny?”

“You are wearing my cologne.”

“Surprisingly spicy.  It’s usually odorless.”

“It was a gift from the Captain.”

“Ah, of course.  Is it doin’ something’ for ya, Spock?  That I’m wearing your cologne?”

“It does have a certain effect on me.”  Spock stepped back.  The air that came between them was uncomfortably cold compared to the heat that had been brewing up.  “Doctor.  If you would?”  He gestured for McCoy to lead the way.

Leonard chuckled as he gamboled past, Spock following close behind.  “A real shame they don’t make these dresses shorter, ain’t it, Mr. Spock?”

“Doctor, you would be indecently exposed if you so much as leaned forward at the hips thirty-eight point seven degrees.”

“Oh, lookie there,” Leonard hooted as he stopped suddenly and bent over at the waist.  “Oops, false alarm.  Thought someone dropped a pretty trinket.”  The floor was spotless.  “Silly me, am I right, Mr. Spock?”

Standing back up and glancing over his shoulders, he barely restrained himself from a full-belly laugh at Spock’s bug-eyed expression.  The Vulcan had both hands outstretched, curled like claws, as if he had been about to grab Leonard by the waist.  “I hope I wasn’t _too_ indecently exposed?”

“Doctor,” Spock growled.  “ _Leonard_.  Our quarters, if you would.”

“I don’t know, Mr. Spock, I’m feelin’ a might peckish.  Maybe we’d best make a detour to the mess hall.  Could be a good idea to get an update from Sulu and Scotty about whatever doodad they’re cookin’ up.”

“Our quarters,” Spock repeated dangerously.  “ _Now_ , Leonard.”

“Bossy, bossy,” Leonard crooned.  Nonetheless, he picked up the pace and made for their quarters as quick as he could go at a walk. 

They passed by a command track personnel who paused a few seconds too long to appreciate Leonard’s nyloned legs in heels.  Needless to say, one glance at Leonard’s accompanying Vulcan made the woman hightail it the fuck down the hall and away from certain doom.

“Possessive, Spock?” Leonard teased as he stepped into their quarters.  The difference between Georgia heat and Vulcan heat was the humidity mostly, plus the fact that an average day in Vulcan’s dry heat beat the hottest summer days of Georgia.  They’d managed to establish equilibrium, nonetheless, and Leonard stepped out of his heels as the heat settled over him like a thick quilt. 

“I find it illogical to encourage the intrusive endeavors of others upon that which is mine.”

“Yours, Spock?  Am I a person to you or an object to hoard?”

“You are undoubtedly your own person with your own personality, desires, needs, and wants.  You are also undoubtedly mine to hoard.”

“You’re playin’ with fire there, Mr. Spock.  Actin’ like that, someone might think you’re gonna turn your back on Surak and go to war with anyone who gives me eye.”

Spock did not so much walk through their quarters as he stalked toward Leonard and then circled him, as drawn as predator to prey.

“I would never deny the teachings of Surak for any reason, as to do so would be to turn away from logic and give into violent passion and destruction.”

“Violent passion, y’say?” Leonard hummed, turning always to keep Spock in sight.  “Sounds like _fun_.”

Like a snake in the grass, Spock struck suddenly.  Leonard was airborne for the moment it took to get from where he stood to the bed.  When he got his bearings, Spock had already pushed Leonard’s dress up to his ribs and was pulling his undergarments down to his knees. 

“There is a word for you, Leonard,” Spock groused.  “Unwelcome in polite conversation.  Most would even consider it an insult.”

“Why don’t you tell me what it is and let me be the judge of if it’s insultin’ or not.”  He lifted his legs so that Spock could finish stripping him of his underthings and stockings.  He was already half-hard and rearing to go.  Would they go for fast and messy, rubbing each other off?  Would Spock ride him like a racehorse at the Kentucky Derby?  Or would Spock flip him over and give Leonard the ride of his life, taking him deep and hard just like how Leonard liked to be taken?  Endless possibilities! 

“Cocktease,” Spock recited, as if from a dictionary.  He lifted one of Leonard’s feet to his shoulder and kissed his ankle.  His sensitive fingers trailed over Leonard’s calf, his knee, and down to his hip.  His other hand had opened his pants and was gathering lubricant from the opening of his penile sheath.  It all but gushed into his palm as the head of his penis peeked free. 

“That the worst you got?” Leonard gasped.  “Please, that’s borderline _civil_.”

Spock’s eyes, when they found his, were on fire, as Vulcan must have been before Surak had preached logic over emotion.  Unable to give himself over to the dirty talk Leonard occasionally found himself wanting, Spock went with the next best option and molded his fingers to Leonard’s psi points across his face.  “My thoughts to your thoughts…”

Leonard _screamed_ , going from half-hard to having a mental-induced orgasm in less than two seconds.  Exactly what Spock thought of Leonard’s teasing was conveyed in endless sentiment and images.  Spock had made himself uncomfortable by saying ‘cocktease’ aloud, but _fuck toy_ and _pleasure doll_ appeared easily and clearly in Leonard’s thoughts from Spock’s.  There was a fantasy that Spock pushed into Leonard’s mind –

 _Spock at his station, easily holding conversation with Lieutenant Uhura.  No one on the bridge spared a second glance for what Spock and his mate were doing.  Why would they?  This was Spock’s_ right _.  Spock was allowed this at any place and at any time he so pleased, as any other crew member was allowed to drink coffee.  His penis slipped in and out of his mate’s mouth, Leonard’s bright blue eyes glinting up at him, so proud and teasing even as Leonard served Spock on his knees before their comrades and friends.  Jim glanced over only once, just to smile at his two friends and softly reprimand Spock on his noisy mate.  Leonard was lewd and wanton as he sucked and slurped and moaned as if pleasuring Spock was itself pleasuring to Leonard._

_“My apologies, Captain,” Spock said, and then came quietly and with no other apparent physical reaction down Leonard’s throat.  Indeed, the only indication that Spock had achieved orgasm was Leonard swallowing thickly around Spock and then pulling back to let the last of Spock’s copious amount of seed mark his face.  This was Spock’s right, to use Leonard as he pleased for sexual gratification._

_‘That… is_ filthy _, Mr. Spock.  You kinky fucker…”_ Inspired, Leonard took one of his own fantasies and shoved it into the red and orange blaze of Spock’s arousal –

 _Leonard had interrupted the Alpha shift on the bridge for what was_ his _right.  According to Vulcan law, he belonged to Spock.  That was true.  However, in return, Spock was bound by honor and logic to see to his every whim, fulfill his every need.  Leonard_ needed _this.  It was_ Leonard’s _right._

 _He gripped the guardrail with both hands, legs spread, sounds falling out of his mouth like water from a waterfall.  Spock’s tongue was_ in _him, pleasuring him, releasing all of Leonard’s pent up tension.  Spock’s one hand, those sensual fingers and broad palm, was working Leonard’s cock while the other held onto the doctor’s hip, keeping him in place while Spock delivered to him the ecstasy he was owed for marrying the hobgoblin._

_“Will I be getting my first officer back at any time or…?” Jim was asking, but Leonard’s needs were far more important than whatever Jim needed Spock to do, so Leonard told Jim to, “Hold on a damn minute, I’m almost there!” and then let out a moan that made Chekov and Sulu carefully fold their hands over their laps and Uhura surreptitiously cross her legs and press her thighs together.  The whole bridge had a hard on the size of Sol – for Leonard or for Spock, it wasn’t certain and it didn’t matter – and none of them were allowed to interfere in any way.  Vulcan law decreed so._

_When he came, it was into Spock’s cupped hand.  His husband would never sully the bridge with semen, even if that meant he had to swallow it.  And Spock did_ not _like the taste of semen.  In this case, he held it in his hand, prepared to remove it through other means.  Leonard did not care to ask after those means, but instead turned languidly in place, now leaning back on the guardrail.  He regarded his mate, who remained on his knees behind him.  He looked like a warrior and a sex slave at the same time.  Strong and seductive, a fire burning in those brown eyes.  His face was wet with spit and flushed green.  His pants were tented – he had lost control of himself and his penis had slipped free of its sheath, ready to bring Leonard even more pleasure._

_Lazily, he pulled his dress back down – Spock, with his one clean hand, pulled Leonard’s briefs back up.  Spock never once broke eye contact with the doctor._

_“Y’know,” Leonard purred.  “I think I’ll save that for later.”  He was referring to Spock’s erection._

_“Please,_ ashayam _,” Spock begged without a change in his stern expression and without shame.  He pressed kisses up Leonard’s leg to the hem of his dress.  “Leonard, do not be so cruel.”_

_“You should’ve known what you were gettin’ into when you married me, Mr. Spock,” he teased.  “I’m only cruel till I’m not.  You know I’ll take good care of you after Alpha shift.”  He propped his foot on Spock’s thigh and rubbed the heel dangerously close to Spock’s dick.  “Don’t I always?”_

_“Yes, of course,” Spock whispered, hips surging up before he could stop himself.  “Of course.”_

_‘You are… a sadist, Leonard,’_ Spock said in their shared mind.  _‘You delight in lust and passion, in my loss of control and your power over me.’_

 _‘Oh?’ Leonard returned.  ‘You tellin’ me you don’t feel the same?’_ Again, he pushed the image at Spock of himself on his knees, servicing Spock on the bridge like a sex doll.  He changed it a little so that he wasn’t in uniform, but, instead, in his velvet mini dress that was as red as sin.  Preferring one outfit over any other would be _illogical_ as they all served the same purpose, but nothing was quite as effective as that little number in making Spock give Leonard his full attention plus some. 

Their psyches clashed like a physical body slam.

There was a hailstorm of emotion to follow, love and lust, dark possessiveness and keen pride.  He could feel that Spock would boast about having Leonard as his mate if given half the chance and had in the past in his subtle, logical way.  He caught the tail-end of a dozen memories –

_“My mate, Dr. McCoy, discovered…”_

_“Have you met my husband,_ the _Dr. Leonard McCoy?  He is renowned for…”_

_“You would benefit from the council of my bonded, Dr. McCoy, on this matter…”_

_“I am gratified to introduce my forever bonded, Dr. McCoy…”_

Spock would _gloat_ that Leonard was his husband.  He adored Leonard’s intelligence, was in awe of his medical accomplishments, respected his autonomy, and, most importantly in this moment, was _very_ passionate about Leonard’s body.  Without more than a touch, Leonard’s entire nervous system was overridden with memories of them having sex, of Leonard inside of Spock and Spock inside of Leonard, of blowjobs and handjobs, of gyrating against each other, of Vulcan kisses and human kisses…

When Spock pulled away from the mind meld, Leonard was sobbing, his body quivering and jerking as even the brush of Spock’s lips against his jaw abused his raw nerves.  Spock was not unaffected and panted into the junction of Leonard’s neck and shoulder. 

When he could gather the energy, he pushed at Spock to get off him and gave them both a onceover.  They had come on themselves like teens, white spatters against blue uniforms.  Spock’s penis had retracted back into its sheath and had left one Hell of a mess behind for them to clean up. 

“Damn it, Spock,” Leonard wheezed.  “Who gave you permission to go on and do a thing like that?”

“Were you hoping for another form of copulation?” Spock questioned in an even tone and utterly destroyed voice. 

“I can’t say I’m displeased, now _that_ would be a lie.  Though I was hopin’ to get a bit more physical with you,” he admitted, taking great gulps of air still.  After such an explosive orgasm, he found himself slipping into a bit of a doze.  He turned toward his husband and threw an arm and a leg over the Vulcan to keep him in place while he settled in for a nice nap.

“Leonard, I must insist that you not sleep at a time like this as we may be needed at any moment.  Sanitation is also necessary at this moment.” 

Leonard curled his leg between Spock’s – the green hobgoblin was still wearing his damn pants! – and pointedly turned his face into Spock’s neck, ignoring the Vulcan. 

“At the least, we should alert the captain to our whereabouts should the situation planetside change in any way.”

“Very logical,” Leonard murmured, and nipped Spock’s ear.  “Such an intelligent _husband_ I’ve got.  What a smart _mate_ I have all for myself.  Not another Vulcan in the whole forsaken universe I’d rather belong to.  Only _my_ forever bonded.”

Spock was a rigid line against him.

“Yes,” the Vulcan began, his baritone tight with desire barely restrained.  “That would be the most logical course of action.  Of course, if the Captain has no need of us, there is no cause for expedience in returning to other tasks that may be completed at another time with just as much efficiency.”

Leonard slit open one eye and smirked.  “Why, darlin’, that sounds swell.  Couldn’t have reasoned it out better myself.”  Spock rolled them so that Leonard ended up beneath him.  Leonard let his legs splay wide.  As a human, and an older man at that, his refractory period couldn’t match a Vulcan’s tireless arousal that was only held in check by tightly reigned self-control.  However, they had worked a way around that.

Spock reached to the bedside terminal with one hand while the other glided over Leonard’s psi points once more.

“Spock, I can hear you, but I can’t see you.  Is everything alright?” Jim’s voice filtered through the haze that was quickly overtaking Leonard’s mind.  Spock was mentally feeding his arousal to Leonard.  Tricking his body into a second erection so shortly after the first.  Leonard barely bit back a groan in time.

“Of course, Captain,” Spock said, voice quiet.  “Doctor McCoy is in bed and I would prefer us to be uninterrupted unless absolutely necessary.”

Vulcans, Spock had attested to many times, did not lie. 

 _Horseshit_.

Then again, Spock hadn’t lied.  McCoy _was_ in bed and they would _definitely_ like not to be interrupted any time soon. 

McCoy arched up from the bed, a hand finding his erection as it plumped up.  For all the lust he was feeling, he might as well had been reluctantly celibate for the past ten years.

“I see…” Jim was saying, and he sounded like he knew damn well what they were up to.  “In that case, Spock, thank you for letting me know your location.  I will… try not to contact you unless it is unavoidable.  Enjoy.”

As soon as the transmission ended, Leonard released the groan he had been holding back.  Spock was a headache times twelve and a right bastard, but he was an excellent husband and an _incredible_ lover. 

“Get over here,” he grunted, pulling his husband in for a human kiss.  Their lips pressed together almost innocently as Spock pressed down on him. 

Spock held one of Leonard’s hands to the pillow next to his head for a passionate Vulcan kiss.  He shuddered against McCoy, his hands so damn _sensitive_ to skin contact and epidermal transference of emotions and thoughts. 

“And what are you gonna do now, Mr. Spock?” McCoy teased.  “I’m all a mess and it’s _your_ job to do somethin’ ‘bout it.” 

As it turned out, they weren’t needed anywhere but in bed for a _good_ long time.

~::~

The celebrations following peace negotiations between Acostú and B’aku were diverse and spread across seventy-two countries.  When asked what the deciding factor for peace had been, the emperor of B’aku reluctantly admitted that the Federation was indeed powerful – too powerful to make an enemy of – as they had brought rain to the Capitol.  In fact, it had not stopped raining for three days, and the emperor was very close to begging the _Enterprise_ to make it stop as the Capitol had no way of protecting itself against heavy rain and the rain was all but washing away several small settlements around the city.  Sulu and Scotty were working on it but seemed vindictively to be taking their time.

“They wanted water so badly,” Scotty cajoled with a smile that was a tad too evil.  “’Tis what they asked for, Captain.”

McCoy disagreed, if only because people were drowning and homes were being washed away.  Natives of Norther B’aku had never needed to know how to swim before.

They remained in orbit for another two weeks, during which time McCoy and his medical team were hard at work giving aid to the two countries and their allies.  They couldn’t help everyone with their limited supplies, but McCoy made it a point to also impart medical knowledge upon the locals and to host several seminars on medical technology and procedure. 

After they left to continue their five-year mission, McCoy was given leave for three days.  Two days he gleefully gave over to sleep.  The third day, he decided to do some mingling in his more… comfortable attire.

“Bones!” Jim crowed when he saw the number McCoy sauntered onto the bridge in.  “Got a hot date tonight, do you?”  He glanced teasingly at Spock, who had turned in his seat at McCoy’s entrance and appeared to have stopped all thought processes immediately following that action.

“That’s the plan,” he agreed, grinning.  His mini velvet dress fit like a luxurious second skin and he had gone for copper eye shadow and scarlet lip color to match.  Uhura wolf-whistled her approval and Chekov gave him a standing ovation.  Sulu gave him a very thorough onceover before he turned back to his console with an indulgent smile.

“I was not aware…” Spock began, but then seemed to lose track of his words as Bones sauntered over. 

Bones had purposely brought his communicator with him for this very moment.  Standing directly in front of his husband, it “slipped” from his hand.

“Whoops,” he said, nonplussed as he got down on his knees to retrieve it, all but between Spock’s legs.  The bridge hooted and hollered, Jim himself chuckling.

Leonard leered as he took his sweet time getting back to his feet.  Spock had folded his hands over his lap and appeared to be all long lines of strenuous tension.  The doctor took a moment to make sure he hadn’t made Spock uncomfortable with all of the attention and innuendo – as far as he could tell, Spock was more concerned with what Leonard was doing than what the bridge was witnessing. 

“Mr. Spock,” Jim teased from his chair.  “It seems you have a husband to tend to.  I think we can manage without you for a time.”

“Hear that, Mr. Spock?” Leonard cajoled.  He turned and flounced his way back to lift, knowing his husband would be watching the sway of his hips, the flex of his legs, the line of his back.  “Ya have some tendin’ to do.  To me.  Might even be my _right_.”  He did not realize how closely Spock had followed him until he turned to face the bridge in the turbolift and almost collided with his husband’s chest. 

“Hello, darlin’,” he purred as the door slid shut.  “See somethin’ you like?”

“Indeed,” Spock replied, holding himself so carefully in place that he may as well not have been breathing.  “As a matter of fact, I find myself quite… enamored with what I am seeing.”  He paused.  Emotions were so difficult for him to verbalize or even project.  He held his hand up and paused for permission.

Leonard tilted his head and Spock gently touched his psi points.  “My thoughts to your thoughts…”

Love.

Adoration.

 _‘You spoil me,’_ said Spock’s voice, overwhelmed with gratitude and awe.  _‘You fulfill my every desire.’_

 _‘Why, Spock!  Is sounds pretty_ illogical _to have desires.’_

 _‘The presence of logic in order to control emotion does not negate having desires as you well know.  With you, I do not have to choose one or the other.  As much as you tease and taunt and torture me with emotion and passion, as much as you have prodded me to accept my Human side and the emotive culture that comes with it, never once have you made me feel that I must be less Vulcan to keep you.  I can have you as my mate,_ ashayam _, and I can embrace logic.  It is logical to see to the satisfaction of my mate in order to maintain your happiness in our relationship, and it is logical that I find gratification in your satisfaction as it shows that we have a mutually beneficial bond and fulfill one another’s needs.’_

“What you’re sayin’ is that it’s logical to love me,” Leonard drawled, coming out of the mind meld at the same time the doors opened up to their floor. 

“I believe that is what I said,” Spock retorted, hands clasping behind his back.  Seemingly impassive, he raised a daring brow and took the lead to their room. 

Turnabout was fair play.  Leonard gave the long, lean lines of his husband’s back and the cute little tush attached to it a very appreciative study.  He even threw in a joyful whistle so that Spock knew what he was doing and that he was very happy with what he saw. 

“Doctor McCoy, please _do_ walk faster.” 

Ah.  Spock was _rushing_.

“Why, Mr. Spock, I think now’s a good time to slow down and enjoy the day.  Think about important things.  When will Lieutenant Uhura and Nurse Chapel get together?  Will Jim ever settle down?  Are Chekov and Sulu datin’?  Important matters to consider, Spock, I’m sure you understand.” 

Spock looked up and down the corridor, then at Leonard who was taking his sweet time strolling back to their quarters.

Perhaps Spock felt that he could be both Vulcan and Leonard’s mate comfortably, but, sometimes, being Leonard’s mate came with concessions.  Such as showing that nasty emotion of _impatience_ for all to see – though, luckily, there was no one to see at that moment – by throwing Leonard over his shoulder and speed walking back to their quarters while Leonard cackled the whole way.

**Author's Note:**

> After I commented on 'Make or Break Time' by Esperata, Esperata replied that we could always do with more stories about Bones in dresses. I decided to take Esperata up on that. 
> 
> I am pretty tired, so if I missed any tags or made any sort of error in the story, please let me know. It has been awhile since I have seen the Original Series, so I more than likely forgot something important.


End file.
